


Moments of Gold & Flashes of Light

by suchanoldcliche



Series: OTP: From Curtain Up to Closing Scene. [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Arc Reactor Failure, M/M, Xanderony, breaking up, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanoldcliche/pseuds/suchanoldcliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As far as breakups go, this one could have been a whole lot worse. There was no screaming involved. No violent threats. No personal attacks. Nothing like that. There was no anger between them at <i>all</i>, in fact. One night, everything felt perfect. The next, they were saying their goodbyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments of Gold & Flashes of Light

**Author's Note:**

> ****THERE WILL BE A SHOCKING ENDING.****
> 
> Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, hi! This one's much darker than the other ones I've written. Will there be a happy ending? Uh. I don't know yet. But we'll see.
> 
> **This was inspired by the song, "It's All Coming Back To Me Now" by Lea Michele. (Originally sung by Celine Dion, but I prefer Lea's version, so.**

As far as breakups go, this one could have been a whole lot worse. There was no screaming involved. No violent threats. No personal attacks. Nothing like that. There was no anger between them at _all_ , in fact. One night, everything felt perfect. The next, they were saying their goodbyes.

Why? Because Tony didn't love him anymore. Because they'd been together too long. They'd lost what they had a long time ago; nights of dinners and the same conversations and the same empty words that Xander knew would some day catch up with them had finally done just that, and all the kid could manage in return was a meek, "But I still love you," as he's being told to leave. Leave the home that he'd built with Tony. Leave the only stable thing in his life for the last two years. He can't bring himself to argue, to beg for another chance, to tell Tony that he's making a mistake, because... is he? Or is their time up?

Maybe they weren't meant to be after all.

He'd seen it coming for months, but he hadn't been able to stop it. For _months_ , Xander watched as Tony withdrew more and more. As the smile he'd always reserved just for the young agent made fewer and fewer appearances. One night, a little over a month before Tony decided he "just couldn't do it anymore," Xander got scared. _Really_ scared. He got up during the movie they'd put on and started yelling, his eyes brimming with tears that he refused to let fall. He couldn't, not now. No, he had to be strong now. He had to tell Tony that if he didn't love him anymore to just be a man already and break it off, because what he was doing wasn't fair. Of course, as he tried everything in his power to get a response from the Iron Avenger, the man seemed less and less interested in hearing what Xander had to say, and more interested in drinking.

Oh, that sinful habit. That's another thing Xander noticed -- Tony had been drinking more as of late. A lot more. That should have been a sign for the boy to step back, but it just made him more worried. Made him more afraid that he'd lose Tony.

Could be why that night hurt him as much as it did.

Xander knew what Tony would do. He'd numb the pain with the alcohol. Drown his worries in a bottle, pretend they don't exist. He'd work in his workshop, create a new suit. Maybe even name it after Xander in some way. Maybe he'd destroy it right after.

How symbolic.

Meanwhile, Xander returned to his cold apartment and realised that his whole life for the last two years had revolved around Tony. He had nothing of value in this forgotten space, nothing that made it feel like it had ever been a home. Four walls, dust, and some old photographs don't make a home.

 _Tony_ was what made Xander feel like he was home. And now Tony's gone.

That night, as the creaking front door shut behind the twentysomething agent, he could feel the weight of the world with every step he took, almost as though gravity itself was trying to pull him down. And it succeeded -- shortly before the boy made it to his old bedroom, his knees gave way and he tumbled to the floor, his body wracked with sobs as the emptiness he'd been trying to fight off overwhelmed him. 

What was he supposed to do without Tony? Tony, the reason he'd remembered what it meant to feel _alive_ after his mother's death. Tony, the man who'd reminded him what it felt like to have a _home_. How could he do this? How could he just... stop loving him?

All of the questions that would flash through anyone's mind during the aftermath of a breakup go through Xander's in rapid succession, barely lingering long enough for the boy to focus on any one question before it vanished and two more took its place. Didn't they mean anything to him? What were the last two years for? Had Xander done something wrong?

Would they ever get a second chance?

...No. No, of course they wouldn't. Because they were never supposed to happen in the first place, were they? They come from two different worlds. They're opposites. They're...

They were _perfect_ together.

But... Tony just... didn't agree anymore. For whatever reason, Tony didn't believe they were worth the fight. He just... let go.

And that's what Xander had to do now.

But... _could_ he?

 

\- - -

Weeks passed. The Level 4 specialist had just returned home from a long mission, and he desperately needed a drink. He changed into his favorite casual outfit - tight red pants, black polo, checkered vest - and left his apartment, bent on getting as drunk at the nearest bar as he possibly could.

It was a hole in the wall. Probably used to be some upscale sports bar back in the day, now revamped and turned into a hideaway for those who knew about it. It was just the kind of place Xander needed.

One right after another, he drank jäger bombs and beer. The burn of the alcohol, both in his throat and pooling in his belly, made the boy smile for the first time in over a month. He could almost see why Tony turned to this so often for comfort.

...No. Stop. He shook his head, trying to clear it of that man. No, he needed more. More alcohol. More of that burn. More of the numbness that comes hand-in-hand with the devil's drink.

But it didn't work. Everything came back to Xander in a rush so hard that he stopped breathing for a moment, hand clasped tightly around his fourth ... fifth? ... glass. Why couldn't he get the man out of his head? Why couldn't he stop thinking of him? Of his voice, his smile, his touch...

Xander shivered, though whether it was from his memories or the alcohol remained unknown. He stared down into his refilled drink, his fingers drumming restlessly against the side of the glass as he tried to come up with a game plan. He had to try calling. Just once, just to see how Tony's doing. That's fair, isn't it? It's been long enough, right? That wouldn't be weird?

Of course, just as he's about to dial the familiar number, something on the telly made him look up from his phone:

TONY STARK FOUND DEAD IN PENTHOUSE SUITE. MORE DETAILS TO COME.

...What the...?

"C-Can you turn that up?" Xander stammered, his eyes already swimming with tears as he got to his feet.

"Stark had been sick for weeks, but it seems tonight, his heart finally gave up..." The reporter's voice was cold and calculated as she told the chilling tale of a man battling some illness Xander knew nothing about. 

Which was messed up, considering he'd been the guy's _partner_ for two years.

"No word yet on how his fiancé is taking this devastating news. Next up, the future of Stark Industries. Will the young man take ownership of the multi-billion dollar company, or will it be left to its CEO, Miss Virginia Potts?"

"Fiancé?" Xander spat, causing everyone within earshot to turn and look at him. But he didn't notice. All he was focused on was trying to process the sudden death of his...

His...

"Oh my God," the bartender gasped, staring at Xander for a minute. "I knew you looked familiar!"

No. God, no. Before anything more could be said, he was out of there. He lifted his phone to his ear as he crawled into a cab, barely able to contain his emotions when the call connected and a woman's voice filled his head.

"I was just about to call you."

"Please tell me it isn't true," he croaked, lifting his free hand to cover his mouth. "Is he...?"

"There's a lot he didn't tell you, kid. Why don't you come to the Tower in the morning? I'll fill you in on everything then."

"N-No," he stammered, shaking his head. "No, I'm coming _now_."

"You're drunk," the woman said simply. "And there's a lot going on over here. You never did handle the media very well."

She's right, but it burned him to hear it. "...I'll be there in the morning."

"Alright."

If not for the amount of alcohol consumed, there was no way the kid would've gotten any sleep. But between that and the way he cried - so brokenly, as though someone had reached into his chest and torn his heart out - he was asleep before midnight. 

And he never woke up.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember, there's a chapter two! Stick around and find out what happens. :D


End file.
